


we took out our heart and replaced it with you

by lostinthefire



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angel Love, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthefire/pseuds/lostinthefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The angels of Night Vale are in love not with one person but with two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we took out our heart and replaced it with you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for someone who is doing me a huge favor and helping me out. I am so grateful and I had a lot of fun writing (and recording) this.

And who is to say our definition of love is wrong, incorrect, impure? We are more pure than most will ever know. We are sweet to the tongue and cool to the touch. We are comfort and light in the darkness, and our love, though it may be strange, is radiant.

He is, too; so radiant against the desert. He is bright but not burning: a moon, not a sun. He is not one of us, he never could be, but he is good. We will keep him.

We will keep him like we keep her, tend to him, love him from a distance until he lets us in. We will treasure his words, listen with beating blood and twitching fingers. We will hum to the sounds of the weather, our voices rising to the tiered heavens.

And as for the new one, the sweet, curious one, he will be ours as well. They bleed into each other; creatures that are meant to be together always do. They bleed and glow and sing together, with bodies and minds and hearts. He will be ours, they both will. We will guard them with our eyes and our bodies, we will shelter them in the places where our hearts would be.

They are not the woman; we love her, but she is not what calls to us. She is a vessel, a line to the strange creatures, bound to the ground by forces unseen. But these two, these sweet, strange, beautiful men, they make our hands shake and our eyes glow with need.

Our nails drag across each other's bodies; our voices sing louder and louder as we think of them. Our teeth click, and we hunger, we crave them near. Our minds are drawn to them and we follow, some of us going with one, the rest going with the other. We follow them, do the simple things they need done. In exchange, they let us stay; we are allowed to be near the things that leave us longing, and it is dizzying.

Of course they know. There is no way they could not know. Some of us pine so fiercely and openly that it cannot be denied. They do not understand, though, cannot comprehend the lengths we would go for them. We breathe them in at night, sing them to sleep with the wind, and make sure the sun does not burn too brightly for them.

This town, this place they call home, this Night Vale, is us as much as it is anything else. We are the heart of this town, we beat our wings and the world turns, we sing and the days keep going.

We will give them what they want: a town to call home, a place to lay together, a lover to call their own.

And maybe this is not what love is, maybe you define it differently, but your opinion never mattered. We are pure, we are bold, and we are enamored.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me elsewhere:  
> [My DW](http://rootsofthestories.dreamwidth.org) (which I use regularly)  
> [My Tumblr](http://analtarofstars.tumblr.com/) (which I am very rarely on)  
> [My Twitter](http://twitter.com/harvestgraces) (which I am on at random)


End file.
